


The Show Must Go On

by Lolibat



Category: Subarashiki Kono Sekai | The World Ends With You
Genre: Composer Josh, Dark, Different take on the game's ending, End Game, M/M, Opposite of Fix-It, different ending, headcannon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:40:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27777019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lolibat/pseuds/Lolibat
Summary: He’s not even human- not anymore. It’s a fool’s errand to believe otherwise. To think that he could empathize the way a child would- laughable.He's a God. It's his right to take, and take he will.
Relationships: Kiryu "Joshua" Yoshiya/Sakuraba Neku
Comments: 13
Kudos: 31





	The Show Must Go On

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ImperfectOrphanage](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImperfectOrphanage/gifts).



Joshua sits on his throne, overlooking his domain high above them- looking down on them, an invisible pair of wings overarching. He glows around the edges, ephemeral. Not quite there, but not quite absent. A presence you feel more than see. 

He toys with a pin in his hand, turning it over and over, observing how it catches the light. There’s a whisper of music in there, just a few solitary notes, telling a simple story to a simple tune. 

Shibuya is still standing, a favor to a certain someone who would not shoot (stubborn, in the face of Armageddon of an entire section of Tokyo), but only just. It stands on a whim, in the hands of a God who fears nothing. 

Joshua takes the few notes that hover around him, the familiar and nostalgic beat that he has grown familiar with, and nudges it. A note here, a flat there, and it turns into something else. A God’s whimsical creation. But the credit this time, is not his. 

He thought that they were the same. Both souls with so much potential (burning bright with creativity and ideals), burnt out against the face of reality until there is nothing left but ashes. A child, grown up too fast in the face of humanity. A fire, banked by the ashes of society. 

But they weren’t- the same, that is- at the end of the day. There is one crucial variable that he failed to take into account. Neku Sakuraba is a child. He isn’t. 

For all his intelligence, his brightness- Sakuraba is fifteen. Idealistic, untested against the world. A virgin to death, the inevitable ending that is mere currency for a God like him. And that, is where he fails. He doesn’t shoot. 

He doesn’t shoot when he should have. 

The child doesn’t understand, not like he does. Doesn’t understand that sometimes death is not a problem to be fixed, merely the solution to the end of a long, winding equation. Death is whatever the dying wishes it to be. Sometimes a solution. Sometimes a gift. Sometimes a relief. 

Sometimes a Game. 

He’s not even human- not anymore. It’s a fool’s errand to believe otherwise. To think that he could empathize the way a child would- laughable.

“Not everyone wants a choice, Neku,” Joshua whispers, a secret imparted echoing in the depths of the throne room. He greets every player who enters the Game, Neku included. There are those who turn down the Game, who bow out with grace and ask to be put to rest as they should be. There are those, who join the game but not for themselves at all.

His gaze flickers to the UG, watching the bright souls in the darkness like stars. The leading pair of this week happens to be the last pair to make a pact. All because the girl was so dead set on helping everyone else pair up first. So eager to finish missions, so Players would be safe from Harriers after. Playing- doing- all for other people’s sake. And yet, she alone shines brightest. 

There is no one waiting in RG for her, that much Joshua knows. She won’t ask for her life back, he is certain. She’ll ask for her partner to be returned to life. That’s perfectly fine by him- such altruism is rare to come by in Shibuya (a rotting, festering nest of selfishness and vanity, so, so shallow it leaves a bitter, oily sheen on everything it touches). She’ll jump straight to Ascension (no chance someone like her would be a Reaper). Who knows? Maybe someday she’ll even return as a Producer. 

The notes in his hands tell a memory of a child, mourning the loss of a friend, forever a scar against his heart. But no one ever told the child it’s not his fault, Joshua thinks. Because it’s not. Death comes for all, sometimes unexpectedly. And perhaps it is because he’s so used to death (dealing with death, handing death, taking death, moulding it to his will) that it takes a week of actual life to remind him of his own mortality. A child glowing so full of life, a naivety usually lost to time- a certain charm of its own. 

A treasure lying on the cusp of disappearing, the owner unaware until it is lost. 

“Silly Neku,” Joshua says to no audience. “You lost the Game, remember?”

Oh, he returned Neku’s friends, that much he did. His own pawns and rooks and bishops brought back from the dead, even if his queen was slain by his own hands. He does hate to have other people’s grubby prints on his pieces. Shibuya is still standing, though wary of her own God. But this, this he kept. 

He brushes aside Neku’s spikes gently, as if the boy himself was fragile, here in the throne room. Time frozen, locked at forever fifteen. This, he will be selfish and keep. It’s his right, even if the higher ups bitch about it all the way from heaven to UG. It’s his entry fee. He’s the Composer. The prices and fees are his to set, his to take. And this, is what he’ll take. 

Neku Sakuraba’s final entry fee was his future. The future he looked forward to, in Shibuya. A return to life with his friends. 

He’s not without mercy. He lets Neku dream in his own mind. Lets him believe that his friends returned (and they did, forgetting that an orange haired ghost ever existed, though Shiki will always hesitate over Jupiter of Monkey, and Beat blinks over a pair of purple CAT headphones and wonders why they look so familiar). Let him believe that he meets with his friends every week by Hachiko. That he lived his life fully, completely, away from the Game. 

He’s flattered that even when mired in his own dreams, Neku reaches desperately for Josh. Sanae doesn’t appear- for all Josh is a Composer, even he cannot replicate an Angel’s power, let alone one turned Fallen. Neither does Joshua; it’s his penance, it’s his grace. A kindness, to the slowly dying (but not quite there). Irony that’s funny to no one but him.

He’s a God. He’s allowed to be selfish, to make and keep his toys as he please. Death is nothing but his coin, the bread and butter of his job. Notes on a string, written in his mind. Perhaps this one boy, a boy with his memories on loop, forever old enough to be idealistic and young enough to not know better, will be his hope (his only solace, and dare he say it- his friend). His reason for not destroying this wretched city at a snap of his fingers. For this boy who sees the city differently (still sees it bright, glowing, and full of life)- a reminder he keeps with him. A smattering of warmth and company in his loneliness. 

**Author's Note:**

> Fic title is from Queen's song of the same name. There is one line in there that's almost a direct quote from one of my fav TWEWY fics. Cookies to anyone who spots it first. 
> 
> I wrote this short character study/drabble today to celebrate TWEWY's sequel announcement. I also started playing the original game again for the fifth time (this time on Switch). I mean, even my pen name is from TWEWY. 
> 
> It's my own headcanon that Neku never actually left the throne room at all (Another Day as a dream of Neku's). And playing the game as a adult feels different from playing the game as a kid. Maybe it's because my own philosophy about death has changed a great deal, but I can see where Josh is coming from. 
> 
> Anyhow, this fic turned out darker than I intended it to be. Dedicated to ImperfectOrphanage one of my fav TWEWY writers on here. Thanks for writing your fics!


End file.
